“Destroy it,” Marco said dully. He clambered to his feet. “I can do it.”
“No,” Ember said. “Since this is my last chance, I’ll say it now: I want to use it on myself. All of it. I’m tired of being a target because of my powers.”
Everyone but Reid and me looked shocked.
“But…but why?” Jillian said.
“Jill, when have I ever liked being a telepath?” She heaved a sigh. “I mean, really, think about it. As long as you’ve known me, it’s just been a long trail of Patricks and Beaus. My powers have become a ball and chain. I want to be cut loose.”
“But your animals,” Marco said, sounding almost hurt. “They need you. You’re the animal woman. It would be weird if you couldn’t talk to them.”
Ember nodded. “I’ll miss them. But I do think this is the best course of action, and not just for me. Let’s face it, we can’t trust that anyone will actually destroy it. At least, not after analyzing it and reverse-engineering the formula. If I inject it, my body will metabolize it, and that’ll be that. No more powers, no more JM-104. Two birds.”
Jillian stared down at the can. “Em, I hate to deny you anything, but…but this could kill you. I can’t, in good conscience, let you have this. You’re talking about injecting the entire can into yourself, even though a fraction of an ounce could’ve been the end of Reuben or me. It lowered our immune systems. It hurts like hell. I don’t think you understand how much this crap hurts.” She shuddered.
“I know. I’m willing to take the risk. The way I live now is so bad, I’m willing to risk death. It’ll be the first time that I’m fully taking control of my life and living the way I want to. Think about that before you tell me no. Please.”
“Let me see that, please,” Reid said. Jillian handed it to him, and he held it up to the light. “I can see the pins,” he murmured. “They’re recessed. Let me see if I can…”
He fiddled with the can, and suddenly the four pins popped out with a little cht. We all took a huge step back—even Ember.
At my smirk, she glared at me. Instinctual reaction, smartass. Wipe that smile off your face.
Frankly, I couldn’t wait for her to not be able to talk to me telepathically anymore.
Reid studied the can for a second, then looked up at Ember. “I can destroy it right now. That’ll be the end of it. You don’t have to risk your life. I’m leaving service today, with you, and I’ll make sure you are never hurt again. No militias, no superheroes, nothing. I’ll marry you, with a ribbon, or with a justice of the peace, whatever you want. Everything I will ever have will be yours. I just…please don’t do this. You’ve demonstrated that you can live without me, Em. But I can’t live without you.”
Ember and he stared at each other for an eternity, until Ember said softly, “You can’t protect me, because nobody can.”
He gulped. “Yes, I can.”
And then he jammed the pins into his leg.
Ember’s high scream smothered any sound of clicks or hissing. Reid probably didn’t make any noise—he just collapsed, his eyes flashing white like a dying flashlight, and then fading as they rolled back.
Emergency personal and law enforcement finally arrived, flooding into the storeroom just as Reuben and Ember began frantic CPR. Paramedics pushed them aside and took over, but Jillian had to restrain Ember from jumping on Reid. She was still screaming. Not words, not cries of anger or fear. Just screaming as the love of her life began to have seizures and foam at the mouth.
Someone bumped into me, and I fell.
The world blurred at the edges, becoming a stew of screaming, flashing lights, shouted orders, and general chaos. Smoke still lingered everywhere, and tiny bits of burning material floated by whenever someone moved too quickly by a smoldering pile of debris.
When blood began to pour out of Reid’s mouth and nose, I pushed through the crowd of legs and touched his hand. Nothing happened. I was bumped and jolted backwards, behind everyone, and I lost sight of my friend.
I was adrift in the ocean.
Jillian came over to me and helped me to my feet, then laid her head on my shoulder, enveloping me in her embrace. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
She still felt as whole as ever, and like a life preserver, I clung to her.
Item Twenty-Nine
Words carved into a large evergreen oak tree in the former Oconee Superhero Camp, central Georgia. Date unknown, but believed to be recent.
BYE-BYE HOME
Epilogue
The days are long, but the years fly by.
Reuben’s sage words, spoken with a paternal chuckle over the phone just the week before, had seemed appallingly sentimental when he’d said them. I’d hung up the phone and commented to Benjamin that parenthood makes people sappy.
But now, as I walked down the overgrown path towards my childhood home, I recognized the ring of truth in his words. With each step, all the days of the past ten years seemed to turn back like the pages of a book, stirring up memories and emotions long forgotten—or suppressed. For example, I’d determinedly not thought about the event that had brought me here last time. Who’d want to think about the tribunal?
Those terrible days, those dark weeks following the tribunal, had indeed been long. The longest of my life, even. But the years had flown by. Where had they gone?
“Hey, are you okay?” Brandon asked. “You look sad.”
I patted him on the shoulder and grinned, shaking off my mood swing. “Don’t mind me. Ever get all nostalgic when you go home for winter break? That’s all this is. I grew up here, you know. Well, I grew up at the end of the path. Same difference.”
The trees thinned, and before long we were standing at the trench where a huge wall used to be. It had been hastily filled in, and never packed down, so now it was a sunken scar in the forest floor, a reminder for future generations of what had happened for so long in the cleared land beyond.
The others were already there. In the distance, in the main clearing, children were laughing and calling to each other. I recognized every sweet voice.
“Hello?” I called.
“Aunt Jill! It’s Aunt Jill! Everybody, look!”
Nora Fischer’s high little shout made me smile. At nearly ten years old, the gangly brunette was the undisputed leader of her pack. And what a pack it was; hot on her heels were her next youngest sister Mary Rose, the gray-eyed twins Laura and Mateo, and even squishy baby Paul, still in diapers. He waddled after his siblings with a sippy cup in his chubby hand.
I kneeled down and threw my arms wide. “Gimme some hugs!”
Five noisy children flung themselves at me—and immediately began begging for me to do my “arm trick.”
I gave Brandon a knowing smile. “I told you they were going to ask that.”
“Please! Please please please!” Mary Rose begged. “Just once!”
I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well…”
“Please! Just once!”
“Please, Aunt Jill!”
“Daddy said you would!”
I could barely contain my own giggles as I smoothed over my face. They suddenly hushed, already enraptured. I raised my left arm, and their eyes grew as round as basketballs. “I’m not fully human,” I stage-whispered. “I have…abilities. Strange and alien abilities. Nobody can explain them.”
“What can you do?” Nora asked, playing along to her favorite game.
“I can move this,” I whispered. My prosthetic fingers slowly clenched. “But how? What is moving the fingers?”
They gasped. “It’s magic,” Mary Rose, ever the imaginative one, said with undisguised awe.
“It’s better than magic,” I said. “It’s science. But I suppose if science can make Supers, then there’s not much difference, is there?”
There wasn’t anything remotely magical about my prosthetic arm, of course. Two years before, I’d been the recipient of a cutting-edge procedure that had combined the
latest prosthetic engineering with neurological mapping.
A dozen world-class scientists and surgeons had cracked open my body and tinkered with my nerves for endless hours. They’d studied the advanced cybernetic hardware inside a corpse that had been anonymously donated to science. I’d read about it in Time Magazine. As a result, I had a somewhat-functional hand, and my honorary nieces and nephews had a party trick to look forward to.
Benjamin had nearly gone crazy during the months afterward in which he hadn’t been allowed to touch me, lest he accidentally “heal” the work done to my nervous system and my body reject the prosthetic. But through it all he shared in my joy and optimism, and now we were a normal married couple again. Well, as normal two people with our history could be.
I let each child lovingly stroke my magical arm, then gave them all a kiss on their cheeks. I stood and gestured for Brandon to follow me. “It’s not far, now.”
As we walked, surrounded by jubilant children, I let myself be happy to be back. The late-June sun beat down on Chattahoochee, filling it with light, heat, and so much life. The thick, waving grass rippled in the breeze like an emerald sea, ridden by moths and butterflies. The fragrant scent of aster and borage perfumed the air, kindling old memories of long-lost childhood games. I promised myself to make flower crowns for the kids before I left.
We walked into the largest clearing, and the kids took off at top speed towards the small throng of adults gathered there. I gestured for Brandon to go with them; I’d seen two people off to the side, beneath a shady tree, whom I wanted to greet.
“Marco? Izzy?”
“Jill? Jill!” Marco began to sprint towards me, followed by Isabel.
I grinned from ear to ear. He was still the same. Year after year, Marco was my Marco.
They ran up to me, and he laughed as he pulled me into a bear hug. “Hey, you!”
I kissed him all over, and then grabbed Isabel and subjected her to the same. It had only been a few weeks since I’d last seen Marco, but it had been years since I’d seen Isabel. Eight, in fact. She’d waved sadly to me as I’d taken my seat in the witness stand in federal court on that somber day. My testimony had been instrumental in sending the elders to the Super prison, but it had been cold comfort for their victims.
She’d been thin and haggard then, stressed from the detainment and relocation all the Sentinels had undergone. Heaven’s own prosecution team had worked out deals for Dean’s militia and the people in Liberty. In return for total candor about their activities and every shred of information they had on the Westerners, they were given immunity and put into the Federal Witness Protection Program.
Berenice, of all people, had joined the United States Marshal Service to help out. “It’s the least I can do,” she’d told me before shipping off to training. “I couldn’t go with you when you went after Isabel and Benjamin, but nothing’s stopping me now.”
We’d clasped hands and bowed our foreheads together. “You take care, you nut job,” I’d said.
She’d cuffed my ear. “Don’t bring down the government or anything, you hear? They’re my new bosses now, and I need a paycheck.”
But Isabel and Berenice were both here today, and Isabel looked fabulous. She’d surpassed her brother’s height, topping out at about 5’8, and she’d straightened her long hair and put a little wave in it. She’d gained weight and...
Wow.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, following my line of sight. “Two carats! Can you believe it? Alex surprised me on my birthday!” She waved the enormous rock beneath my nose. “Mom and Dad love him, Marco loves him, I love him, and it’s going to be such a beautiful wedding! We’re going to Hawaii for the honeymoon. He’s a Navy nuclear electrician, and he’s won three achievement medals, and he’s been deployed a bunch of times, and oh my gosh, he’s the hottest, sweetest, funniest guy I’ve ever—”
Marco elbowed her. “Take a breath, motormouth. There’s plenty of time to do this later.” Marco gave me another, calmer hug, then pulled away. “I’m so glad to see you, Jill. You look great. Just great.” He peered around my shoulders. “Who’s the beanpole who came with you?” He squinted, then gasped. “Oh! I remember now. Is that the kid you were telling me about?”
“You’ll see.” I put my arms around their shoulders, and we began to walk towards the others. “Any other shocking developments I should know? And did you dig that hole like I asked?”
Isabel pointed ahead. “Gabby and Rube just found out that they’re having another boy, and they’re naming him Ryan. Gabby insisted.”
A strange throb permeated my chest. How auspicious.
Marco patted my hand. “That’s the only surprise. And yeah, we dug the hole.”
Everyone stopped talking amongst themselves as we came up. Benjamin kissed me, and I spent a few minutes hugging people and sharing a few words with each of them. To my surprise, there were three faces I didn’t recognize, across the clearing and under a tree. Someone else must’ve invited them. Perhaps Dean?
It hadn’t been so long since I’d seen Dean, much to Benjamin’s annoyance. In fact, we saw him quite often. Dean and Eleanor had eloped in Las Vegas during the wild and turbulent months following the end of the camps.
We’d been invited to the formal reception a few weeks later, but none of us were comfortable leaving Ember behind, and Ember hadn’t been willing to leave the hospital, much less fly across the country.
“He could wake up any day now,” she’d said to me when I’d asked. “I’m making improvement. He can hear me sometimes. We talk.”
We’d both gazed sadly at Reid then, small and fragile in the hospital bed where he’d lain for so long, hooked up to a complicated mess of monitors and tubing. Wilted flowers had graced every available surface that wasn’t covered in Ember’s personal effects.
It was hard to heal damage caused by a chemical unknown to medical science.
But heal he did.
Now in his thirties, a married man, a father, and an acclaimed vegan chef, Reid Fischer was the essence of good health. He’d never recovered his powers, but it hadn’t stopped him at all. Following the wedding we’d all thrown for the two, they’d moved to rural Georgia and opened up a refuge for abandoned and abused animals of all kinds: horses, cows, dogs, cats, everything.
Ember ministered to the animals, coaxing them out of trauma and into happiness, and Reid cooked special meals for their dietary needs. He’d even gone to cooking school, and now rich businesspeople were offering him opportunities to attach his name to various vegan and eco-friendly food labels. It was all very exciting.
But to their sons, Ezra and Shepherd, he’d always be just “Dad.” Ezra, the little strawberry blond six-year-old, was sound asleep in his father’s arms, unimpressed by the once-in-a-lifetime event unfolding around him. Shepherd, the four-month-old, was sleeping in a baby carrier on his mother’s back.
Instead of a hug, Ember took my hands in hers and beamed at me. I could feel her in my head, and she raised an eyebrow. You’re just full of secrets today, aren’t you?
I winked. What’s the point of living if you can’t have a juicy secret or two?
She finally pulled me into her embrace. “Seeing you once a month isn’t enough. Come live with us on the farm. It’s four hundred acres. Have Benjamin buy you another house. They’re cheap for you guys, right?”
Ah, yes. More twitting about the house situation. Give away one waterfront mansion to Gabriela to make up for Benjamin burning her house to the ground, and suddenly everyone thinks we eat money for breakfast.
We’d never heard the end of it, especially after Gabriela and Reuben had sold the Trent estate for a stupidly large amount of cash and used it to invest in Gabriela’s business. Her name was now on upscale salons in every major city in the America.
Meanwhile, Benjamin and I had moved into a small home nestled in the verdant hills outside of Saint Catherine. It was nice out there. Quiet. I could hear myself think, but still be able to see Erica fo
r our appointments, and meet with reporters and lawyers. I’d been able to visit Marco at UGSC’s nursing school, and then later at the Catholic school next to our old headquarters. The headquarters was a museum now. Marco was the school’s nurse, a fact that filled Benjamin with a weird pride.
Dean and Eleanor’s charming eight year old, Georgiana, gave me a brief hug around the middle before going back to her lawn chair, and her novel. It was one of many she’d brought for the day. Eleanor and Dean waved at me before going back to their own thick books.
Dean, curiously, had turned into quite the scholar after the Sentinels disbanded. He was even doing deep research into the history of the Supers and the camps with the intention of writing an authoritative book. He’d already collected a few dozen priceless documents and contemporary sources, and was piecing together the true picture of our past. He’d even recovered my birth file from the DOJ.
I greeted Reuben last, and gladly accepted his hug. “Hello, fellow robot,” he said, giving me a second squeeze. “I hope the squad didn’t maul you back there.”
“It’s fine,” I said, warm-faced. “How’s the leg?”
He rapped his prosthetic leg with his aluminum water bottle. “The usual. The doctors were talking about prescribing me some pretty strong drugs for the phantom limb pain, but I’m holding out on that for the moment while I explore other options. How’s the arm?”
My lips twisted as I tapped it. “No pain recently, but it itches from time to time. Sometimes it gets so bad that I’m shouting at it to stop. You know how it goes.”
“Do I ever. Have you had the sensation of twitching yet? That was a lovely surprise a few weeks ago.”
I clasped my hands behind me and rocked back on my heels, trying to keep the smirk off my face. “No, but speaking of surprises, did you meet the man with me? Brandon?”
“I shook his hand, but he just said he was your friend. Who is he? He looks…I don’t know, familiar, I guess.”
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